“I’m not trying to start a fight, Markos,” I tell him, though, I have to admit, he’s right. I am picking on every little thing the past couple of days to see if he will argue with me, but instead of giving in to my craziness, he just agrees and kisses me, and just like that, I’m okay. My nerves calm, and the next morning, I wake up way before the alarm and then look at him. “Do you think that the lady is going to come every day and feed Elsa?” I ask him, and he opens his eye at me. Instead of answering me, he plants himself inside me, and by the time he’s done, I don’t even know what I was complaining about.

We pull up to the house, and I look over at him. “If your parents don’t like me, we can’t date,”

I finally tell him, and he smiles at me and leans over to kiss me. “I’m not kidding, Markos. I will not be that woman.”

“And what woman is that?” he asks me, holding my cheek in his hand.

“The woman whose in-laws hate her but just smile to keep the peace,” I tell him. “The ones who they dread to be with.”

“Vivienne, I promise you that my parents are going to love you,” he says and kisses my lips, and when I look over at the house again, I see that his parents are standing in the doorway waiting for us.

“Oh my God.” I duck and hide in the seat. “They just watched us make out.” I try to hide my face.

“Hey,” he says, taking my hands away from my face. “We basically live together.” He laughs, and it makes me gasp.

“Oh my God.” I put my hands in front of my mouth. “You think they know we have sex?” He just smiles and shakes his head, getting out of the car. He walks around to my side and opens my door, putting out his hand. “Do you think they’ll know I sucked your dick this morning?” I ask him quietly as I get out of the car. I stop, and he turns around to look at me. “Does my face glow?”

“What?” he asks and just shakes his head and proceeds to walk, but I pull him back.

“Does my face glow?” I ask him again. “If it glows, they will know we had sex.” But he doesn’t answer me; he just walks ahead, and I follow him not because I want to but because if I don’t, I’m going to slip on my fucking ass. High heels and ice are not a winning combination.

“Mom, Dad,” Mark says as he helps me up the five steps to their house.

“Markos,” his mother says and grabs his face and brings it down to her lips, kissing his cheeks.